


Northern Fools & Foreign Invaders

by LadyOfDragonstone



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, I'm a slut for fluff, Jonerys, Mild Smut, Smut, jon and dany drabbles & one shots but written in a way that fit as a chapter fic, lil bit of, lots of kissing :), or implied smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-17 15:52:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13662249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyOfDragonstone/pseuds/LadyOfDragonstone
Summary: All of these are my own stand alone one-shots that I've written to comply with canon, and therefore, with each other. They can be read by themselves or together as a chapter fic if you'd prefer.Works including but not limited to: | Lazy Mornings | Breakfast on the Ship | Leisure on the Ship | She's One of Us Now || "He's too little for me" | A Song of a Snow Kiss | Interrupting the Queen and King | Picturing a Future |+    +    +    +    +    +    +    +    +    +    +    +    +    +    +    +“That’s good to know,” Tormund said, “Say, I’ve always wondered, what do Kings and Queens do for fun? Aside from each other, that is.”He could feel his face grow hot, and knew then he must have grown very red. Daenerys was flushed as well, but she only chuckled nervously.





	1. Lazy Mornings

**Author's Note:**

> Someone told me I should just go ahead and publish my one-shots as a chapter fic and I thought, eh, why not?
> 
> If you like these, please check out my other chapter fic "Theirs is a Song of Ice and Fire"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys is too sleepy and affectionate to get out of bed, but Jon knows that there is work to be done. 
> 
> This one shot works as a chapter fic or standalone since its canon compliant. 
> 
> Rated [F] for FLUFFY AS FUCK  
> Implied Smut

The first thing that came to his mind was a sense of disorientation and confusion. Instead of opening his eyes, he shut them tighter to block out the light, and let out a soft grunt. Jon Snow was not used to the warmth and softness that surrounded him. Then he noticed a sweet smell, a hint musty, yet very pleasant to his nose. All at once, he became aware of the slight swaying under him, and the sound of waves crashing against wood. 

When Jon realized where he was, he fluttered his eyes slightly as a lazy smile reached his face. The light filtering through the cabin stung his eyes slightly, so he had to squint for a moment to make sure Daenerys was sleeping next to him. Jon sat up slowly, as to not wake her, and admired the way her silver hair looked under the sunlight. 

On their first morning together, they had woken up at the same time, tangle in each other’s limbs. Jon remembered the panic that flooded him that morning, thinking that she might have sent him away and never speak to him again. Instead, she covered her breasts with the furs, and shyly tucker a loose strand of hair behind her ear. When Jon had realized she was just as embarrassed, he took hold of her hand, pressed a firm kiss on her palm, and bid her good morning. Daenerys had flushed slightly, but let the furs fall around her and pounced on top of him to claim his mouth. They had spent the entirety of that first morning barred in her cabin making love. By the time they came out to break their fast, it had been so evident to everyone else what they had been doing, that they didn’t even try to sit apart or make idle conversation with anyone else. 

Waking up on the second morning, Daenerys had been sitting up in bed, with several pieces of parchment around her. She apologized for waking him, but he only say up and pulled her willingly into his arms, nuzzling her hair and neck silently as she went through supply lists and raven scrolls bearing old news. She’d shared her worries about ruling and fighting come winter, and he had murmured reassurances and advise in her ear. Then they settled back, teasing and feeding each other breakfast on her bed to later chat about more trivial or personal matters. 

This had only been their third morning together, but Jon already hated the notion of waking up a different way. He laid back and snaked his hand under her arm and around her naked waist, pulling her close. He brushed back her curls, and pressed kisses from her jaw to her neck. His beard must have tickled her, because she squirmed slightly and hummed sleepily. He smiled against her skin, trailing his palm past her hips and lightly brushing the smooth skin of her back. Dany sighed in encouragement, bringing up her own hands to hold his back and rustle his sleep-mussed curls.

“Does the king bid me a good morning?” she hummed sleepily. 

The word ‘king’ sent a brief jolt through his system, a hundred implications raking his brain, but he put them aside. 

“He does.” Jon kissed her shoulder, took a deep breath inhaling her scent, and pulled back to watch her. “Good morning, my Queen.” 

Daenerys smiled, and his heart leapt at the sight of the dimples in her cheeks. He leaned forward once more to press a chaste kiss on her lips, but when he tried to pull back, she hooked her leg over him and pulled him closer, giving him a gentle bite on his lower lip. 

Jon placed both hands on her hips, and turned her on her back. She yelped in surprise, but he put his weight on his arm before he could crush her. His other hand wandered to the skin under her right breast, and his lips brushed light kisses from the edge of her lips down to her collarbone. Daenerys squirmed again, but this time she giggled. He resisted the temptation of kissing any lower, and pulled back smiling. 

“Are you ticklish, My Queen?” he teased. 

She pressed her lips together, feigning seriousness, “Of course not.”

But Jon saw the peeking dimple at her cheek, and knew she was lying. He dove into her neck again, kissing and nuzzling her vigorously enough to get her laughing. Daenerys wiggled under him, shrieking in pleasure, her hands flailing and trying to claw at his back. Jon didn’t know what took over him, but suddenly he was tasting and sucking as well as kissing. He bit down gently on her skin, but pulled away quickly when he heard her draw in a sharp breath. 

“I’m sorry,” he uttered, “Did I hurt you?” 

Dany was breathless and heaving from all the laughter.

“No, I liked it,” she admitted, with a nervous smirk.

Wordlessly, she pushed him back until he was sitting up against the headboard, and maneuvered herself so that she was sitting up on his thigh. Daenerys wrapped her arms around his torso and nestled her head under his chin. Jon rubbed up and down her back, pressing her closer, until he felt the sudden nip of her teeth at his shoulder. He grunted, sliding his hands to take hold of her ass. Blood had began to rush to the lower half of his body, and the evidence rested uncomfortably at her belly. 

Daenerys kissed at the sting, and looked up grinning proudly. A knock outside startled them, her hands flying to grip at his shoulder so she wouldn’t fall off his lap. She huffed out a breath of annoyance.

“Missandei, you may my breakfast outside,” she called out, snaking her arms protectively around him. 

Jon was endeared by her reluctance to leave him, and locked her in his own arms as well. He lowered his mouth the space behind her ear and nibbled there. Dany tittered briefly, but there was more knocking at the door. 

“I am very occupied right now. Come back later,” she snapped. Jon continued kissing all through the side of her jaw to soothe her.

“If her grace finds some time to spare,” a low voice retorted from the hall, “Her council would very much like to speak in terms of battle plans and diplomatic treaties, though non of them seem brave enough to approach the subject just yet since Her Grace is ‘so very occupied.’”

Tyrion’s words had been formal enough, but the snark behind them irritated and ashamed Jon in equal parts. The dwarf was right; They were at war, the boat would dock soon enough, and Winter was here. He sighed in dismay and straightened up. 

“Tell anyone that inquires that the Queen will be out by noon,” Jon called out firmly. 

There was a silent pause behind her door, and then: “Of course, Your Grace.”

Jon slackened his grip on her as Tyrion’s footsteps died away. Daenerys had pulled back too, but only to rest her cheek against his, smirking. One of her arms was still around his middle, and she used the other hand to trace the scars at his chest. 

“I enjoy it when you turn into a King,” she purred, “Nearly as much as I like it when you turn into a wolf.”

Jon loved the feel of her breath against his beard, so he turned to kiss her. Daenerys smiled into the kiss and probed her tongue into his willing mouth. The kiss was lazier than before, but she bit his lip again in the end. He snickered at her spirt, and pulled away, licking the pleasant sting that her teeth had left behind.

“I was serious,” Jon told her, “We ought to be out of here by noon.”

“And yet I do believe I have the final say in that,” she teased, “I might keep you prisoner in this room for weeks and weeks to come. Would you like that?”

He kneaded her ass, and replied with a husky voice: “Aye.” 

She flashed him another triumphant grin and shifted in his lap to get more comfortable. 

“We can stay in here all you’d like, Jon Snow, but by the time you tell me its time to leave, spring will have come and gone again.” 

Jon was suddenly aware of her arousal on his thigh. He swallowed back a groan and removed his hands from her behind.

“Dany…” he breathed out, “We have to go.”

She moaned into his neck and tightened her hold on him. He loved her even more for it, but it did not make it any easier. It struck Jon how different this woman was to the one that he had first met in Dragonstone. He exhaled out a deep breath in sympathy, unwilling to push her away just now. 

“Crowns are heavy things, Jon,” she said slowly, “Sometimes, if you get too comfortable, they might just fall off your head. Thats why Kings and Queens have to stand so stiffly all the time.”

Daenerys never wore a crown, but even so, he knew her meaning. She brought up her hand and brushed the crescent scar that marked his skin. 

“But you know that already,” she decided, “You wear your crown as every King should.” 

Jon was stunned, but before he could reply, she gave him a final kiss and scrambled off his lap. He watched as she slipped into a silky shift and crouch in front of her trunk to find a suitable dress. When she fished it out, she seemed surprised to see him still naked and unmoving on her bed.

Dany furrowed her brown, “Whats wrong?”

He shifted his weight onto his elbow and turned his body sideways to face her.

“I was just thinking,” Jon said in a low voice, “It won’t be noon for a little while, still.”

He watched in amazement as she registered his words, threw the dress aside, then leaped on the bed and onto his lap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Tumblr @Violer-eyes-silver-hair


	2. Breakfast on the Ship - Multi PoV

THE MORNING AFTER:

Brienne of Tarth had awoken early as ever to break her fast on the ship, and was the first to arrive at the small dining hall on the ship. Podrick accompanied her, but he kept quiet as always. They found it odd to be the first ones to arrive, since it was usual for the Queen or King to arrive first.

Tyrion and Varys the spider arrived too, whispering darkly in a corner, as if someone had died. The pair were followed by Robert’s bastard son, Ser Jorah, the Queen’s advisors, Ser Davos, and finally the Hound, sitting alone and chewing moodily.

The Queen’s boot clanked loudly on the ship’s floors, announcing her arrival moments before. There was no much talk when the royal pair arrived, but even so, it ceased. Jon Snow entered with Daenerys Targaryen’s arm linked to his own. Everyone stood up in respect to greet them, then sat back down as the Queen waved her hand in the air. They sat together on the middle of the table that had been cleared for them.

Most people noted how chipper the pair acted. Brienne, Podrick, Grey Worm, and Ser Davos kept their gaze down, eating quietly and not voicing their thoughts. Everyone else’s eyes seemed to flicker to the pair, exchanging knowing glances. The Hound was the only one that did not care.

Tyrion looked at Ser Jorah Mormont, watching the muscles at his neck tense as Daenerys smiled brightly at them all.

“You look lovely this morning, Your Grace,” Ser Davos put in, breaking the tension.

Daenerys gave him a lively smile, “Thank you, Ser. Good morning in turn. The Winds are good today. Hopefully we will arrive to White Harbor soon.

“Not too soon, thought, hmm?” murmured Tyrion, taking a bite of burnt bacon, his eyes darting back and forth. He swallowed and spoke up, “The Manderlys will not treat us kindly, we should hope to use their hospitality for only one night, Your Grace.”

“Aye, and then we can ride to Winterfell through the Kingsroad as planed,” agreed Jon.

“Are you exited?” The Queen asked him, “To see your family again.”

“I am. Seeing Sansa again after so many years was great, but … Arya, and Bran. ” he grinned distantly, “They’ll be glad to meet you too, Your Grace.”

They smiled at each other. Tyrion tapped his fingers impatiently, but said nothing. Jon looked up at the table and his face fell back to its normal frown. He looked at Davos for a moment as if to say something, but he seemed to change his mind.

“Lady Brienne,” he said in a stony voice, “You saw them, did you not? How are they faring?”

Everyone’s eyes turned to the Lady Knight. She squirmed uncomfortably under the gazes and nodded solemnly.

“I did, Your Grace. They are both in good health,” she said curtly.

Jon nodded, but avoided her gaze. It was common knowledge that the woman had killed Stannis Baratheon, and had earned the King’s mistrust.

“I can’t imagine a girl as young as your sister living all on her own. She must have her brother’s bravery,” Daenerys observed.

The Hound choked on his ale and gave a dry laugh. He met their eyes for a moment, but leaned down to keep eating.

“Does something amuse you, Ser?” the Queen asked.

“I wouldn’t call it bravery, is all,” he muttered.

“You know my sister?” Jon Snow asked him, perplexed.

“He protected her after Lady Catlyn’s passing, Your Grace,” Brienne explained.

“Protected her,” Gendry scoffed, “More like kidnapped her to get a reward.”

“There was no one to give me a reward, you bloody-” he paused, looking at the Queen, “fool.”

Jon Snow stopped eating altogether, not sure who to question, “You know my sister?”

Gendry’s jaw tensed, “I didn’t know if she was alive or not, didn’t wanna ask you.”

“Bah,” the Hound snarled, “Not alive? That girl’s got tougher balls than all of you put together,” He paused, looking at Daenerys, “Except maybe her. Anyone that rides a fire-breathing beast has got to have some-”

“Watch your tongue,” Ser Jorah snapped, but the Queen laughed.

“Its quite alright. You were beyond the wall, no?”

The Hound nodded but gave no further comment.

Gendry pipped in, “I was too, Your Grace. Delivered the message for you.”

“You have my gratitude for your service,” she glanced at Jon questioningly.

“This is Gendry Waters, Your Grace.”

“Waters?” Tyrion mused, “A bastard from the Crownlands?”

“Nasty word,” Daenerys frowned, “’Bastard.’“

“A true word,” Jon conceded, “Gendry is-”

“A blacksmith,” Davos interrupted, “From King’s Landing.”

Daenerys nodded politely, but Gendry kept talking.

“I’m Robert Baratheon’s son, Your Grace,” he said eagerly.

There was an uncomfortable pause where Gendry’s face seemed to realize his implications.

“Bastard son,” Davos corrected nervously.

Jon watched Daenerys intently, and his hand innately sought hers under the table. Only Missandei noticed, but she quickly adverted her eyes. Daenerys’ looked away for a moment and gave his hand a squeeze, then released it. She flashed Gendry a kind smile.

“Well, bastard or no, we are all fighting on the same side. Tell me, how did you come to meet the Stark girl?”

Gendry breathed a sigh of relief, “We traveled together with the Night’s Watch, she was headed to Winterfell, before the Lannister men took us as prisoners. We escaped, but the Brotherhood took us too-”

“Berric and Thoros?” Jon called, exasperated, “And no one thought to tell me-”

“Then I kidnapped your sister to get my reward from the Starks,” said the Hound, impatient to finish the story, “Not that it did me any good. Never met a bigger pain in the arse, with her shitty list and her ‘Needle’”

“Ser!” Jorah protested, but no one paid him any mind.

“Needle?” Jon laughed, startling everyone, “She still has Needle?”

“What needle?” Daenerys asked.

“Her sword,” Brienne explained, “She’s quite good with it too, you’ll be pleased to hear. She could cut me down if she wanted to.”

Jon frowned at that, “I’ve never seen you fight.”

“Lady Brienne beat the Hound in combat, Your Grace,” Podrick blurted.

Tyrion let out a bark of laughter, “Did you? By the Gods, Clegane!” He raised his cup to Brienne, “My brother was right about you, my Lady.”

“Your brother?” Daenerys said, “The one that nearly drove a spear through me?”

“And the one that is marching Cersei’s army North, yes,” Tyrion pointed out.

Daenerys regarded Brienne for a moment, and took a long sip from her cup.

“Well, this should be an interesting journey, my Lords,” Varys said.

The King in the North exchanged a knowing look with Daenerys as she sipped from her goblet, “Indeed, it should.”


	3. Leisure on the Ship - Jon PoV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon & Daenerys attempt to fullfil their responsibilities as monarchs while coping with their personal desires.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You: "GASP ! I Already read this in Ao3 and Tumblr!"
> 
> Me: Yes love! these are all organized reposted one-shots that work as a chapter fic ! Wild, right? !

He walked down the swaying, wooden steps into the lower part of the ship. Jon had found it difficult, at first, to accustom himself to the constant lurching and rocking of the floor beneath him. The first time he has been on a boat, he had sailed to Hardhome, but his mind had kept wandering to the Wildling army that awaited them at the time. On the trip back to the wall, he had been even more preoccupied to take notice of his surroundings. He had sailed many times since, from Bear Island to King’s Landing, and found it to be rather peaceful at times.

Davos, who had been born in Flea Bottom, had lodged in many fine castles and keeps through the years, yet he told Jon that he had always felt most at home in a swaying ship. The Onion knight had said that in his youth, he had often considered taking all the people he cared about and sail them away from the rest of the world. Jon had thought of the family that awaited him on Winterfell, his Direwolf, his brothers of the watch, and of Daenerys. He quietly agreed.

He strode forward to the door of a chamber that had been used a couple of times to hold council meetings whilst on their journey North, but was mostly used now for leisure. Jon had once walked in to see Varys, Tyrion, and Jorah drinking and speaking in hushed mourning tones around the table. But at his arrival, they had leapt to their feet, claiming of having other things to do. He had an uncomfortable feeling that they had been discussing him, or rather, Daenerys and him.

As he raised his fist to knock on the door, he hear muffled voices arguing rapidly, then the door burst open. Tyrion staggered back in surprise of seeing him by the door frame, but quickly recovered, throwing him an irritated look.

“I’ll leave you to discuss this amongst yourselves,” Tyrion snapped angrily over his shoulder. Jon raised his head to see Daenerys standing behind a table and glowering at the dwarf, “It would be in good faith for the two of you to have a conversation outside of a bed.”

Jon took a sharp breath in surprise, but Tyrion moved past him and shut the door, leaving him alone with Daenerys. She looked livid, clutching the table in front of her for balance as the ship faltered. Her knuckles turned white from her tight hold. She avoided his gaze and settled herself the chair behind her, letting go of the table. He stepped across the room and took the seat in front of her.

“Is there something we have to discuss?” he asked quietly, already knowing the answer.

Dany sighed softly. She took his hand in hers as her anger ceased, kneading his fingers in her own. There were several topics both of them needed to discuss before leaving the comfort of her ship. They’ve known it since the first time he entered her chamber, but chose to never speak of it, and bask further into their pleasure. But Jon knew winter was here.

He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand, “The men say we’ll reach White Harbor soon.”

She nodded, understanding the meaning behind the words, and raised her eyes to look at him.

“Would you like to know why Tyrion was angry?” Daenerys asked.

“Aye, but I think you’re going to tell me either way.”

She let out a low chuckle and brought his hand to her lips, kissing his knuckles.

“We had discussed it before, in Dragonstone, shortly after you left to Eastwatch,” she began, “I didn’t want to speak of it at the time, but tonight, I was the one to bring up the affair. You see, when I die-” Jon’s body froze, bewildered by the topic, “-My armies will have no place here. I intended to sail back the Dothraki to the Grass Lands after I won the throne. The Unsullied would be granted some lands in exchange for their service, and any that wish to leave may do so, but they will always need a leader to follow. That is their way.”

“But,” Dany continued, “If I die before I sit on the throne-”

“You won’t-” he interrupted.

“-But if I did,” she insisted, “There are two possible outcomes: Any Westerosi men under my service would steal my fleet or flee. The Unsullied would not be welcomed here, and would likely have to scrounge or fight for food. But they are not meek. The Dothraki would plunder as many villages as they could, taking men as their slaves and leaving chaos in their path. And my children-” her voice grew shaky, but she carried on “-My dragons would have no one to temper them. I fear what they could do in their rage. I once told Tyrion I didn’t wish to hear about my succession, not until I wore the crown. But that was before I went North of the wall. Tonight, I told him he was right. I need to choose an heir.”

His mind seemed to think of everything and nothing all at once. His mouth went dry. After a time of uneasy silence, he pulled his hand away. The skin at her lovely, pale neck pulsed as she swallowed.

“Or,” she said carefully, “They could unite behind someone else. They won’t fight for gold or titles, but they will follow strength. They’re capable of tearing apart the realm, but they could also bring peace to it.”

“No.” His voice sounded hollow to his own ears.

Daenerys flinched, but did not give in, “You’ve already been named a King. You’re a great warrior, and a good man. They will flock to you like birds. Even if I didn’t name you my heir, who do you think my people will turn to if I die?”

“Tyrion,” he answered, knowing it wasn’t true. The Unsullied might follow the dwarf if Grey Worm commanded them, but the Dothraki never would, “Anyone else.”

Daenerys let out a frustrated breath, and stood up.This had not been the topic he wanted to discuss. She walked to a cabinet Tyrion used to store his wine and pulled out a flagon of wine and two goblets. She walked past her chair and settled herself down next to him, and poured the wine. Jon took the goblet she offered him, letting their fingers brush. Had he not been so weary, he might have found it erotic when she took a long sip of her wine without shying away from his gaze. She placed her glass down and sighed.

“Why don’t you want to be my heir?”

“Don’t want to be king,” He said simply and gulped down some wine,

She narrowed her eyes, “You already are a King.”

Jon felt a prickle of irritation at that, but his anger melted when he saw the sadness is Daenerys’ eyes. He put down his own glass and took her hand again. He massaged her fingers between his thumb and forefinger as he thought of a reply.

“I don’t think I could be the king you need me to be if you were dead,” he clarified, “You’re the one that brought all these people together. You, Daenerys, not me.”

“And if I wasn’t dead?”

The question was simple, but Jon had a hard time finding a fitting answer.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, “I came here tonight because I thought it was time for us to-” he lowered his eyes to their joint hands “-speak about these things.”

She frowned, “I know the North is your home. I don’t want to ask you to choose between your family and me-”

“Then don’t ask it of me,” he said boldly, edging closer to her, “I know the Queen in you worries about it. It worries me too, Dany. How will our people fare? What will the Northerners say? But it doesn’t matter-”

“Jon-” she protested.

“We don’t know if we can win this war-” he pleaded, “-Or the one after it. I’ve fought and died, and I’m ready to do it again, but we need something worth living for. I’ve no wish to stop being with you, not for politics or titles,” he cupped her face in his hands, “I don’t want to lose what we already have over the prospect of something that might never be. I won’t ask you to put aside the throne for me, but don’t shy away from me in fear of what might come.”

“I don’t think I could stop either,” she whispered. Her breath felt hot on his skin.

Daenerys closed the space between them and pressed her lips to his. Letting her hands roam to the back of his neck and up his curls. They kissed slowly and deeply, only pulling away to take in sharp breaths of air before colliding again. He had let go of her face to place one hand on the small of her back and another around her waist, pulling her closer. Sometime during their bliss, she had ended up sitting on his lap. Dany gasped and let out a low chuckle in between her heaving breaths.

“We ought to take this to my chamber,” she breathed out, closing her eyes as his lips trailed from the side of her lips down to her neck.

“Hmm,” Jon groaned into her neck, then lifted his head to look at her, “Perhaps we should have more conversations outside of bed.”

He could feel her body tense. Her face took a cautious expression as she struggled to catch her breath. Jon pressed another soft kiss and rubbed her back to soothe her worry. Daenerys sighed contently and snuggled against his chest.

“Alright,” she agreed, lazily stroking the curls at his nape.

“I hope you like Winterfell. Its not the grandest castle, but its the ancestral home to the King’s of Winter.”

“Hmm,” she hummed, “Home. I had hoped that Dragonstone would feel like home. It didn’t, but it was beautiful anyhow. I like to see Winterfell soon.”

“We’ll be there soon. Winterfell was where I grew up, but it didn’t feel like home either. A castle is no place for a bastard.”

Jon hadn’t meant to sound so dismal. He looked away, uncomfortably aware of their different ancestry. As a boy, he had thought himself an abomination born out of wedlock, thanks to Lady Catlyn, half a Stark and half a nobody. He had given up hope of ever finding out who his mother was. But Daenerys was a Targaryen, heir to the throne. That might have bothered him once, but he was a King now, and man grown. He had fought dead men, seen dragons, and escaped death. Many might have thought him greedy, but he felt like it was his fate to meet her and be at her side.

“Perhaps I’ll give you a home someday,” she said. Jon knew from the uncertainty in her voice that she also feared what might come after arriving in the North.

“Daenerys,” he breathed out, “Marry me.”

He could feel her heart beating furiously against him. The only other sound around them was the lulling pull and push of the waves against the ship’s wooden belly.

“You said you didn’t know if you could be king,” she reminded him, her voice shaky.

“Aye, I don’t know. But I know that I want to be at your side no matter what happens. Being a Queen is part of you, I know that, but I want to marry the woman I’ve come to know, not just the Queen. Forget our family names and our titles. Forget all of it. We’ll fight for our people and-” he swallowed thickly “-and die if we must. But let’s take this one risk for ourselves.”

Dany trailed her fingers from his neck to his jaw, cupping his face and pulling him closer for another kiss. His felt felt dizzy, and his limbs were heavy. Slightly dazed, his hands fumbled clumsily to the back of her head. She smiled into the kiss, but pulled away abruptly.

“Of course,” she replied, “I’d love to be your wife, Jon Snow.” Daenerys seemed to pause, taking a deep breath, “I love you.”

He let out a nervous chuckle and pressed another chaste kiss on her lips before saying: “I love you too.”

She snickered nervously again, exited at the prospect of marrying him. The sight made his chest flood with warmth.

“When shall we marry?” She asked, almost giddily. He could barely recognized the same stoic Queen he met in Dragonstone many moons ago. “When we reach Winterfell?”

“We can marry whenever you’d like, My Queen, but it would please me very much if my family was there.”

“Alright. Winterfell,” she decided, grinning.

“You look so beautiful,” he murmured in her ear, “Which Gods would you prefer?”

“I’ll be your wife in the sight of any Gods, My King,” she replied, and added “As long as you don’t expect me to cook for you.”

Jon gave a roaring laugh, that startled her so much, she nearly fell off his lap. She placed her arms around his neck for balance, as he pulled her closer to him, chuckling. They stared at each other in edgy delight. They still shared a lot of first moments, and this had been the first time they voiced their devotion without any coyness.

“Don’t worry, I’m not marrying you for your cooking. And I hope you don’t ask it of me either, since my cooking is not fit for a queen.”

Now it was her turn to laugh, “You know how to cook?”

He shrugged, “I used to be Lord Commander Mormont’s steward.”

Daenerys was taken aback at hearing the name, but she blinked her surprise away and smiled.

“A steward turned Lord Commander, turned King,” she said sweetly, “They’ll write songs about you.”

“The bastard King,” Jon said sarcastically, “No, I’d much rather hear songs about you, Dany.”

She unseated herself from his lap to refill their cups, handing him one.

“They’ll sing about both of us,” she declared, “Let’s drink to it. To the King in the North and his Dragon Queen.”

After drinking their fill, they alternated between serious speculation of the war and the future, and drunk banter punctuated with laughs and kisses. She admitted that it had been the first time she had been properly drunk, and while Jon did not like drinking that often, he found himself promising her that it wouldn’t be the last time.

They sneaked out of the planning chamber, hand in hand, and barred themselves in his room for the rest of the evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr for Jonerys trash: @Violet-eyes-silver-hair


	4. She's One of Us Now - Jon PoV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives. Jon reunites with his family. Daenerys is trying to be discreet about her feelings, but Jon's sisters know him too well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If any of you throw shade at Sansa for being reasonably weary of strangers and Queens, I'm throwing punches

Jon had arrived at Winterfell earlier that evening, greeting his family with tight embraces, unshed tears glistening in his eyes. They exchanged sweet remarks, and Jon felt younger that he had in years. Remembering his courtesies, Jon gave them a quick introduction of their new Queen, to which they replied accordingly but not warmly. Daenerys greeted them in turn, and Jon could see the faintest signs of nervousness on her face. Arya pulled him closer, beckoning him to the castle, and Dany told him she needed to oversee her troops camp, and turned to leave, but Jon impulsively took hold of her hand.

“Daenerys,” he called unthinkingly, nearly a plead.

He wanted to spend time with his family, that much was true, but he also wanted for her to keep him company. He dropped her hand quickly.

“Will you join us at dinner?” He asked softly.

Her face was almost unreadable, but Jon had learned to see through her Queenly act. Her eyes flickered to his sisters, and she placed a docile smile on her face.

“Thank you for your hospitality, Lord Snow, but I’m sure your family would be glad to spend time with you tonight.”

Neither wanted to keep their affection a secret, but they understood that it might come as an unpleasant shock to those who did not know her. Still, Jon only cared about keeping her at his side for as long as possible. Winter was here, and he oft wondered if they would live to see spring.

“Yes, your Grace,” said Sansa with a smile, “Thank you for your understan-”

“I’m sure my family would enjoy your company, too,” he interrupted.

At that, Daenerys gave a true smile. She regarded him for a moment, but agreed, “Alright. I’m looking forward to it.”

Jon was glad that she turned away at that, and mounted her Silver filly out the gates, or else he might have kissed her in the public Courtyard. He led his family into the castle, and mussed Arya’s hair as he had done many years ago. She grinned affectionately and showed him the sword she had kept all along.

They were in his study. Bran kept quiet, but gave Jon a pleasant smile when he turned his way. Sansa was smiling too, clearly relieved that her brother had returned safely to her. But the memory of the Queen in the courtyard made her uneasy, and she turned to look at his brother warily once again.

“You bent the knee,” she began.

He sank on the chair in front of the fire, “I did.”

Arya climbed onto the desk, swiftly, but careful enough not to knock off the ink bottles and parchment. Sansa wheeled Bran closer and sat at a chair next to them.

“Whats she like?” Arya interrupted, “The Queen?”

“She’s…” Jon kept his face guarded and considered his words, “A just ruler. Her people love her, but she gives good reason for her enemies to fear her.”

“Then its good we’re not her enemy… yet. But she chose Tyrion Lannister as her hand, how can you trust her?” Arya wondered.

Sansa shook her head, “Tyrion is not a bad man. He has good cause to hate Cersei too. But-” she looked at Jon, “How can you trust her?”

“She’s never given me reason not to,” he said simply.

Sansa breathed out impatiently. Surely there was more to it, but he was holding back from them. She exchanged an irritated look with Arya, but her sister just smiled.

“Sansa’s been waiting for weeks to quarrel with you,” she said, smirking, “I told her she ought to let it go, that you wouldn’t give the North to someone that didn’t deserve it.”

Jon looked over, “You’re right, I wouldn’t. At first, I thought she wanted to have me burned alive for not bending the knee the first time she asked but-” the ghost of a smile threatened to appear on his lips, “-She’s not cruel. She wasn’t pleased, thought. Tyrion said I was the most stubborn Northern fool he’d ever met. Nothing he did or said changed my mind.”

“But something did,” Bran said, looking passively to the flames.

Jon’s brows furrowed, but Arya pipped in, “What changed?”

He swallowed and turned back to the flames, “She’s the best chance we have.”

Arya’s playfulness had ceased, replaced by intrigue and concern.

“Why didn’t you tell us anything?” Sansa demanded, “Why couldn’t you send me a raven?”

Annoyance flickered on his features, “What did you want to hear?”

His words vexed her, “I don’t know, Jon, anything, anything at all! Why couldn’t you ask for our insight?”

Arya knew that by “our insight”, Sansa meant “hers”, but she said nothing.

“I knew what you would say,” he explained, “And I told you- I wasn’t going to bend the knee, damned if she burned me alive and conquered the North on her own-”

“But you did bend the knee, Jon,” Arya cut in, “We’re not young girls anymore, Winterfell is our home too.”

“You left me alone, here,” Sansa said, raising her voice, “You were the last family I had, and you left me. I was so worried that you wouldn’t come back, that I would see Targaryen armies marching through our gates and see your head on a spike. Seven Hells, Jon! You could have sent-”

“I KNOW!” he exclaimed, standing up.

Sansa flinched, and he immediately filled with guilt. He knew his sister was strong, but she had also fought a battle of her own, with the scars to prove it.

“You’re right I should have,” Jon lowered his voice, “But there was nothing you could have said to stop me.”

Sansa’s breath caught in her throat. Arya studied his face carefully. He sat back down, but this time, he did not look away from them.

“Daenerys risked her life to save my own. She knows whats coming, we’ve seen it. When the dead march on our walls, she will be the reason why our lives keep going.”

Arya turned to her sister and exhaled, then, “Bran, is it true?”

Jon looked over at his little brother as his eyes rolled back into white slits. He let out a shaky breath. After a moment, Bran’s eyes rolled forward.

“You saw him,” Bran stated, “Beyond the wall.”

He closed his eyes tightly and nodded, remembering Uncle Benjen’s scarred face. Bran looked to his sisters.

“Its true. The Night King took something dearly from her. She saved Jon’s life. She might well be the one to end the war, and-” he glanced at Jon, “-maybe more.”

Jon took a deep breath, “I’ve missed you more than I can say, all of you. I am here now. I’m here to protect the North, and to keep the people I love safe. I can’t do that if I don’t have your support.”

Arya stepped off of the desk, “You have mine.”

“Our support,” Sansa said carefully, “For you- and for Daenerys?”

“Yes,” he said firmly but not unkindly.

Her eyebrows creased, but she nodded, “Alright.”

“Good,” Jon said with a light smile, standing up and wheeling Bran’s chair to the door, “Come on, then. I haven’t had good ale since I left for Dragonstone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Tumblr for Jonerys Trash: @Violet-eyes-silver-hair


	5. "He's too little for me" - Jon PoV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dialogue requested One Shot. Tormund and Tyrion tease Jon about Daenerys. Jon finds Dany in his room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realized that even tho Dany is my favorite character, I enjoy writing for Jon more because he's all my PoVs haha- gotta fix that ! :)

The men gathered inside Jon Snow’s study the night of his return to Winterfell. They settled around the map in the center of the room, wooden sigils littered its surface. They were tallying up all their forces to prepare for the tactical meeting that awaited them on the morrow. Jon had told Daenerys it was not very important for her to be there, as no actual planning would take place. She had thanked him with a quick kiss, and hurried off to his chambers before anyone could see her. Jon was trying to end the meeting quickly so her could return to her side, but he recognized the importance of their task.

“Your Dragon Queen, how many men does she have?” Tormund asked.

Tyrion moved the wooden sigils into the spot that marked Winterfell, “Forty thousand Dothraki, and eight thousand Unsullied.”

Tormund clapped Jon in the back, “I didn’t think she would march all her armies North, well done Snow! ‘mazing what a pretty face and raven curls can do to a woman.”

Jon was grateful that there were very few people in the room to hear his comment, but even so, he scowled.

“Daenerys saved our lives beyond the wall,” he reminded him, “You were there- how could you speak that way about-”

“Oh, settle down, Snow,” Tyrion mused, “We know our Queen would never relent her power merely because someone seduced her. I’m sure your wildling friend here didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Jon Snow has good honor,” Grey Worm stated, “He is right, no one should speak ill about Queen Daenerys Targaryen.”

Tormund grunted, “The dwarf speaks true, eunuch. Anyhow, I’m sure her grace is too good for a northern bastard with a small pecker. Then again, I’m sure a small cock is better than no cock at all!”

Tyrion let out a bark of laughter. Jon wanted to refute him, but thought it wiser to bite his tongue.

The imp poured himself some wine, “Well, she did say you were ‘too little’ for her.”

Jon couldn’t help but to whip his head around, “I don’t believe that.”

Tormund snorted, “I thought good King Snow didn’t like us talking about his Dragon Queen.”

Tyrion smirked and sipped his wine, “Alright, well, I think thats all for tonight, Your Grace, if you would please excuse us?”

His words were dripping with sarcasm, but Jon nodded all the same, “We’ll meet here tomorrow morning. For the sake of ur Queen, come sober.”

“Of course,” Tyrion agreed, sipping the last of his wine. The rest of the men left at his dismissal, though he wasn’t King anymore.

He made his way into his room. He considered knocking before entering, but he thought it would look queer to an outside eye if the King knocked on his own room. Jon entered, and bolted the door after him.

Daenerys didn’t look up at his arrival. She was inside a tub, her back to him, and steam rising elegantly all around her. It was the first time Jon had seen her silver curls loose and wet, sticking to her skin. He stepped closer and crouched behind her, curling his hands on her bare shoulders. Dany let out a soft sigh and rested her head on his chest, her eyes closed.

“I thought I was going to wait all night,” she purred.

Jon moved her wet hair away from her neck and kissed under her ear. Daenerys moved her hand up to his hair and pulled him closer. He chuckled.

“Tyrion said something interesting tonight,” he murmured in her ear.

"Really?” she hummed.

“Mhm,” he said, unclasping his iron gorget, “I heard you once thought that I was 'too little’ for you,” He stood up to take off his boots, then proceeded to unlace his leathers, “What did that mean?”

Daenerys chuckled and turned faced him, “Well, if I must say it, you’re slightly shorter than most men, Jon, but then again, most you’re, uh-” she smirked, “-A bigger man, in your own way.”

Jon laughed, throwing the cotton shirt over his head and stepped out from his breeches. Daenerys moved aside on the tub eagerly, and allowed him to climb in. She settled herself over his legs and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him sweetly. He broke away, smiling.

She smiled back, “What?”

“Well, you’re smaller than me,” he pointed out, running his hands down her back.

“A small dragon is more powerful than a grown man,” she teased, shifting her weight on his lap, “or, say, a wolf.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Tumblr: @Violet-eyes-silver-hair


	6. Interrupting the King and Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Works as chapter fic or stand alone One Shot:
> 
> Tormund comes back from the wall shaking in fear. Jon and Daenerys get distracted while planning the Northern defense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya might have read this in tumblr at @violet-eyes-silver-hair

A group of mounted men trotted to the North Gate of Winterfell. One of the guards recognized a red-haired Wilding at the head of the group, and demanded they opened the gates at once. Tormund Gianstbane was easy to spot- and it was common knowledge he was a good friend of the king. 

But as soon as the guards approached him, he urged his horse forward, pushing past them and bolting to the tallest tower. He unmounted at the base, and managed to climb half-way up a set of stairs before another set of North men pushed him down. He kicked and punched savagely, trying to free himself.

“The King must KNOW!” he wailed desperately.

“Stop!” someone squeaked, “Get off- GET OFF I SAID!” 

“The Maester-” one of the Northmen called in the chaos, as the others continued to hold down Tormund.

“STOP!” Samwell Tarly said, more confidently, “Jon Snow is a brother to me- and a friend to this man as well. Unhand this man right now unless you want to face the wrath of your king!” 

They stopped struggling, but did not move their hands away from the wildling. He pushed past one of the guards and picked himself up, breathing hard.

“The King-” Tormund croaked, “Jon- he must know!” 

“Alright,” Samwell tried to calm him, “Whats happened?” 

“Tormund?” another voice exclaimed.

The guards parted to allow the two Ladies of Winterfell to approach, accompanied by Ser Davos, the Hand of the Queen and Brienne of Tarth, but even the sight of her did not soothe the Wildling. 

“The Stark girl!” he said, “Your brother, where is he?”

“The King is up in his study,” Davos said, “He did not want to be interrupted.”

“What is-” Sansa began, but Tormund shoved past the whole of them and ran up the stairs faster than they could think possible. 

The guards scrambled forward, but Arya Stark held up and hand and ordered them back; Tormund was Jon’s friend, he would not be hurt. She shot up the stairs swiftly, with Lady Brienne at her heels, a panting Samwell Tarly, Sansa, Davos and Lord Tyrion, moving as fast as his stunted legs could carry him.

“Whats happened?” Arya demanded as she ran after Tormund, “The Night King- Is he coming right now? TELL US-”

“The King is busy!” Tyrion said loudly, panicking and trying to keep up with as the man trotted through the castle to Jon Snow’s study, “Do not go in there!” 

“He must know! Everyone must know!” the red-haired wildling exclaimed, gasping for air as he reached the door and threw it wide open.

Only the display beyond that door could have rooted him to the floor, speechless. He blinked a few times, his thoughts scrambled chaotically as he tried to process whether he was in the right room or not.

Fire crackled in the hearth, filling up the place with warmth. Maps, scrolls, and books littered the main desk and tables. The sight seemed strange at first, as if there was one mangled beast of cloth and hair was sitting by the table. But as his eyes adjusted, Tormund realized it was simply two people, sharing the same chair. No- it was Jon Snow, sitting at the head of the table, with the Dragon queen on his lap. He could see his hands digging at her hips as they kissed earnestly; her hands were around his neck, pulling him closer by the hair, but at the sound of their arrival, they broke apart, their chests heaving hard as they tried to catch their breaths. 

Jon’s face contorted in confusion, “T-Tormund?” 

“What?” Daenerys blurted, breathlessly. 

In just a beat, the room seemed to be flooded with people, all struggling to catch their breath. Brienne of Tarth looked away, embarrassed; Arya Stark’s mouth fell open slightly, gaping alongside her sister. 

“Jon! Tormund is back from the wa-” Samwell began, but stopped immediately when he saw what his friend was doing.

“Whats happened?” The King demanded, looking around in bewilderment.

Tormund gave a big shuddering breath, remembering why he was in the room. “Snow! The Night King- The Wall! Its fallen! He has a dragon- Snow- A dead dragon- YOUR DRAGON!” he exclaimed, pointing at the Queen still on the King’s lap. She flinched.

At the mention of her, Daenerys realized where she was, and shifted, trying to untangle herself. Her eyes shot accusingly to Tyrion, as she had specifically asked to not be interrupted. He suppressed a guilty grin, and looked down to adjust his vest. 

“Uh,” she breathed, then gulped, trying to regain her composure, “Jon.” 

“What?” 

“Let go of me.” 

“Oh.”

It fully dawned on Jon that he had just been caught kissing the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms in his study. A woman he had introduced to his family less than three moons ago. His brother had told him of the wall’s wreckage at his arrival, and explained to Daenerys the condition that her Dragon was in.

Unable to comfort her, or have time of his own to reflect on the fatalities of his brothers, Jon had been working tirelessly for the past days. Sending warning ravens, distributing dragonglass weapons, supplying their armies with provisions, and uniting the North into the Queen’s kingdoms through publicly abdicating had left little time for the couple to find comfort in one another. 

Even at night, they were forced to bid the other goodnight and fell into exhausted sleep. Daenerys had come to his study to plan the defenses of the castle, but somehow, had found her way into his lap instead, kissing him and holding on to him for as long as they could go without being interrupted. Only a few minutes had passed before the wildling burst through the room, yelling of news that had been already delivered. 

Jon slacked his grip on her, and allowed her to stand up before them. She smoothed out her dress gracefully, and raised her chin. If it hadn’t been for her disheveled appearance, Jon would have thought that she had just been interrupted having a dull conversation. He took a moment to admire her flush cheeks and plump, pink lips before tearing his gaze back to Tormund.

“Please,” Daenerys motioned at the Wildling, “Take a seat.” 

Tormund nodded distractedly, and sat down in the seat opposite Jon. The King brushed back the curls that littered his face, and sighed in resignation as everyone else settled around the table. 

“I thought you were dead,” Jon said.

“Almost,” Tormund admitted, still unsettled, “The wall-”

“We know about the wall,” Daenerys stated. She poured a cup of spiced wine from a nearby flagon.

“The dragon-”

“We know, Tormund. We’ve already taken steps into protecting the North. We can’t march to meet them. We have to wait for them here,” Jon explained.

“Oh,” the wildling breathed, “Good.”

“You’re shaking,” Daenerys noted calmly. She brought an empty cup to Tormund and poured him some of the spiced wine, “Don’t plague everyone with worry, now. Your King and I are making sure everyone will be safe.” 

Tormund was taken aback, “He’s not my- I’m not a kneeler- We are not safe!”

She shot him a cold look, “You’re speaking to a Queen. You would do well to lower your voice.” 

Tormund remembered the way she had arrived North of the wall atop her fire-breathing beast, and looked down with a shudder. Guilt seeped into Daenerys at once.

“Here,” she said more gently, handing him the wine, “Drink this. It’ll settle your nerves.” 

Tormund nodded, threw back his head, and gulped the wine greedily as the Queen sat down next to the King. Jon looked up to meet Sansa’s gaze, shifting between him and Daenerys in weary distrust. He spotted Arya looking at him as well, her expression was void of emotion, though he could have sworn to see a flash of amusement in her grey eyes. He straightened up in his chair, looking back at Tormund. 

“They could be here any day. With his dragon and his armies” he reflected after draining the wine.

“And we will be ready,” Daenerys reassured him, “I have dragons of my own still, and this time, I will not fail you.”

The words seemed to stir something in Tormund. He nodded solemnly. 

“Freefolk don’t kneel,” he declared, “But, ah, I’m glad Snow bent the knee to you, Dragon Queen.” 

“Thank you,” she said, puzzled, “Jon and I will work side by side to protect the North and restore peace to Westeros, you have my word.” 

The corners of Tormund’s mouth twitched in amusement. “My daughters?”

“I believe the Wildling girl is seeing to them,” Ser Davos piped in. 

“Yes,” Sam agreed, “Gilly is with them in the glass gardens.” 

Tormund nodded, and stood up chuckling, “Well Snow, I could use some food and rest. I’ll leave you to-” he wiggled his fingers back and forth between the Queen and him, “-keep protecting the North.” 

Daenerys flushed, but said nothing as he exited the study. She was suddenly aware of the Stark girls looking her way. She folded her hands in front of her, as Jon cleared his throat.

“Well, thank you for coming,” he said, “My Lords, if I could have a word alone with my sisters.” 

They nodded in agreement. Sam, Tyrion, Brienne and Davos shuffled out of their seats quietly, but Jon could hear them muttering under their breaths as they exited the room. 

The King’s throat felt dry as he faced his sisters. 

“I’m sorry you had to find us in such a compromising position,” Daenerys said diplomatically, “We were not expecting to, uh, engage in such activities at the moment.”

Her tone was so endearingly formal and distant, Jon could not help but to let out a low laugh. They all looked at him accusingly, but he only shook his head. 

Daenerys was exasperated. “What?” 

“Nothing, my Queen,” he conceded in amusement, “You’re right. It was a compromising position. Perhaps you should’ve bolted the door.” 

“I wasn’t planning on-” She began, flustered, “We were only planning the defenses of the castle.”

“Aye, and then we weren’t,” he said, unabashed. 

She struggled to keep a smile off her face, and clenched her hands tighter when facing the Stark girls.

“My Ladies, you have my word as a Queen, as a Targaryen: What’s between your brother and me will never get in the way of our protection of the North. The Seven Kingdoms will be united against the Night King soon, and we must face him together. I hope he will help me to dethrone Cersei Lannister after this war is over-”

“- and I will,” Jon assured her.

“-But our alliance is not based merely on our-” She sucked in a deep breath, as if realizing what she was saying, “-on our affections, and it will hold solidly against any enemies that befall us. I only ask you not to judge your brother’s loyalty for his people. Our relation started long after we became allies, and will never intervene us from bringing peace to the realm.”

Jon nodded in agreement, “You should know Daenerys pledged her full power to our cause before I bent the knee. She is still your Queen, and you will continue to treat her as such.” 

An unpleasant silence filled the room. Daenerys realized she had not heard any of the Stark girls speak since entering the room, but continued to hold their gaze. The Lady of Winterfell must have realized it was their turn to speak.

“Thank you for your reassurances, Your Grace,” she said evenly. 

She nodded politely and faced Jon’s other sister. They looked so much alike, Daenerys dreaded to see disapproval from those eyes, but found only amusement there. 

“Well,” Arya said, “I can’t say I was expecting it, but it could have been worse. At least my brother chose someone interesting.” 

Jon chuckled nervously, “She’s interesting enough, I’ll give you that.” 

At that, Daenerys couldn’t keep the smile from her face. 

“Your brother is the best man I’ve ever met,” She declared boldly, reaching for his hand across the table, “His kindness mean more to me than you could imagine. I want to keep him safe and happy for as long as I can, and I can only hope you take no issue to that.”

“Of course not,” Arya said at once. “Jon deserves happiness more than anyone else. I just wish he wouldn’t have been stupid and just told us at once,” she explained, “Your Grace.”

“Yes,” Sansa agreed, “Though its not our place to question his decisions.” 

Jon sighed, “I’m sorry. You’re the Starks of Winterfell, not me- and my sisters. I care about your safety. I love you both. And bending the knee was the right choice, I promise you. But I won’t hesitate to ask for your input, alright?” 

They nodded, and Daenerys couldn’t help but to feel a rush of affection for him. She brought his hand to her lips and pressed a small kiss on his calloused knuckles. She could see how tired he had grown on the past days, but he smiled affectionately all the same.

Arya shifted uncomfortably, “Does this mean Jon will be the King now?” 

Daenerys cleared her throat, “We- uh … I bed your pardon?” 

“Are you going to get married?” she made clear.

“Arya,” Sansa hissed, “You can’t just-” she gave her a reproachful look,” Forgive my sister, your Grace. Thank you for your kindness. If I may be dismissed, we all have a bit of planning to do still.” 

The Queen knew Sansa had grown up in trauma and deceit, and had more reasons than most to distrust her. She did not blame the girl one bit. Yet, her stomach sank in disappointment at her cold courtesy. 

“Of course. This is your home, my Lady. You may do as you please.” 

The Stark sisters turned to leave, but Sansa stopped at the door, as if to say something. 

“I am glad you’ve found someone, brother,” she declared, her voice wavering a little, “And I do believe her grace has good intentions.”

Then she strode into the hall with a smug looking Arya, and closed the door.

“I’d say that went well,” Jon huffed. 

Daenerys bit her lip and nodded. Jon sighed and kissed her hand this time.

“They’ll come to love you,” he soothed, “They will. I know it.” 

She flashed him a smile, “Thank you. I believe we have to get back to planning the castle’s defense now.” 

Jon looked over at the mess of maps and scrolls that they had already gone over for hours. 

“We’ve done all the planning we can, My Queen. Now we can only prepare our troops and wait.” 

She pursed her lips, “I suppose.” 

“Don’t worry, Dany,” he said, edging close enough to feel her breath on his face, “I know of a few things we could do while waiting.” 

Daenerys grinned, and somehow, found her way into his lap again.


	7. Picturing a Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Works as a One shot.  
> Exhausted after a long day, the King and Queen, and their close friends and family, sup together and dare imagine what the future after the war will be like.

“Ah, supper looks good,” Jon noted reaching across the table to put food on his plate, “I’m famished.” 

The Queen sighed and took the seat next to Jon. The day had been long, and so full of planning and council meetings, she felt like she had barely had time to breathe at all. Jon nodded in agreement. It had been a small gathering at first, but more people started to sit around them: the Starks, her Queeny council, Ser Davos, Brienne of Tarh and her squire, The Hound, Tormund Giantsbane, Samwell Tarly and Gilly. Missandei sat at her other side.

“Is everything alright, Your Grace?” She asked.

“Yes. It has been a tiresome day, is all,” she explained, pouring herself half a cup of wine.

“Thought productive,” Jon added, sucking the grease off his fingers. The sight made her flush, so she forced herself to look away.

“And boring,” Arya complained, “Those council meetings are so dull, I nearly miss living in the woods.” 

Daenerys flashed her a sympathetic smile, “When this war is done, I’ll make sure everyone is at peace and happy. All you’ll ever do are things that bring you joy.”

“You can spend the whole day insulting people and scarring them with your sword,” Jon teased at his sister. She grinned at that. 

“We can go hunting,” She proposed, enthusiastically, “You promised me you’d take me hunting one day when I was little, remember?”

He wrinkled his face in thought, “Yes…I might have. Though haven’t you been hunting all this time on your own?”

“Only hares or ducks,” she admitted, “I’d like to go with a real hunting party.”

“We’ll do that,” Jon said, “We can do anything you want.”

Daenerys couldn’t keep the smile off her face. Samwell Tarly chuckled.

“I’d never thought I’d see you doing something for fun,” he told Jon.

“Well, we’ve had to fight, haven’t we?” he said in seriousness, “Theres little joy in command, but I can be fun.” 

His defensiveness made Tyrion laugh. “Oh? I’d like to meet this fun Jon Snow.” 

“Jon has always been gloomy,” Sansa said, “Even as a child.”

“Thats not true,” Arya argued, “Its just you made everyone around you gloomy, dear sister.”

Jon frowned, “Arya-”

“I’m only teasing,” she grinned, “I remember you ambushed fat tom and covered him in snow. And there was that other time we were in the crypts and you covered yourself in flour pretending to be a ghost until Sansa ran away screaming.”

A strange thing happened then: Sansa and Daenerys laughed at the same time. The sound was odd, but pleasant. After they stopped, Daenerys smiled down at the table and busied herself. Jon was filled with warmth at their exchange.

“Aye, we were children then,” he said, unabashed. He picked up his horn of ale and took a gulp.

“That’s good to know,” Tormund said, “Say, I’ve always wondered, what do Kings and Queens do for fun? Aside from each other, that is.”

It was no secret that he and Daenerys were close to each other, but even so, Jon choked on his ale. Tormund laughed in mirth as the King coughed to cover his embarrassment. He could feel his face grow hot, and knew he must have grown very red. Daenerys was flushed as well, but she only chuckled nervously.

“You ought to watch your tongue, Wildling,” Ser Jorah warned.

Daenerys paid him no mind, “I always liked to sail, when I was younger. I must have crossed the narrow sea half a hundred times.” 

“Is that so?” Davos pipped in, trying to diffuse the discomfort, “I’ve always liked being on a ship best, as well, Your Grace.”

“I wanted to be a sailor,” the Queen admitted, “Though my brother wouldn’t allow it. He said ‘we are dragons, not fish.’“

“He was right. A man does not belong in water,” Tormund said. 

“She’s not a man, though, is she?” Arya said, turning to Daenerys, “I like sailing too, thought I’ve only sailed to Braavos.”

“Braavos? I grew up in Braavos,” Dany said, her stoic nature all forgotten, “And all the other free cities too, but Braavos has always been my favorite.”

“Is it nice?”

When Daenerys realized Sansa was speaking to her, she blinked in surprise, and smiled, hoping to finally befriend Jon’s other sister. 

“Yes, its lovely, if I remember correctly. You might enjoy going there, My Lady.”

Sansa thought about it for a moment, “Yes, I might like that.”

Jon was watching them intently, affection for his family bubbling up in his stomach.

“Perhaps we’d go there as well,” he heard himself say.

Everything was so uncertain in that moment. Everyone knew they might be dead in a couple of day’s time, but the hope in the King’s voice was uplifting all the same.

“Perhaps we will,” Daenerys said slowly. She smiled a sad, knowing smile, took his hand into her own, and squeezed it.


	8. NEW UPDATE IS CHAPTER ONE

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HELLO JONERYS FAMILY.

THE NEW CHAPTER HAS BEEN MOVED TO CHAPTE #1, BUT IT IS BRAND NEW. I MOVED IT THERE SO THE STORY COULD MAKE SENSE CHRONOLOGICALLY TO ANYONE THAT WAS READING FROM CHAPTER 1. 

ALL THESE CHAPTERS WORK WITH EACH OTHER BUT ALSO AS ONE SHOTS SINCE THEY'RE CANON COMPLIANT. 

GO TO CHAPTER #1 FOR THIS UPDATE. 

ENJOY!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Tumblr @Violet-Eyes-Silver-Hair


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